


We'd Be Alright (Into the Heart of the Sea)

by HeartbreakWeather



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 18th Century, ARSONIST SAPNAP WTF WHY IS THAT A TAG, Alexis | Quackity Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arsonist Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), BAHAHAHAHHAHAA, Betrayal, But lets be honest, Character Death, Everyone has a little crush on George, He is adorable, I WANNA READ THAT, I just admire their friendship, Maybe Dream has a little crush on George in this, Okay get this, Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sea Shanties, They do be pirates, This Is STUPID, What are these people writing?, Why Did I Write This?, Wtf is wrong with the tags on this website, but also not really, dreamnotfound, i dont ship them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28603110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartbreakWeather/pseuds/HeartbreakWeather
Summary: The Prince closes his eyes. He thinks of the only thing he wants most in this life-- freedom. He thinks of the sea and her waves, enticing him to join the unforgiving depths. He thinks of the places he could touch, the lives he could meet who have never possessed the slightest amount of riches. He thinks of what stories they would tell, of everything he could learn about the world. And suddenly, he thinks about his father and wishes to never have to be king.George opens his eyes and blows on the dandelion, the seeds being carried towards the ocean and dancing in the air. His eyes follow their waltz to the sea before meeting the green eyes before him once again. The stranger is smiling and George is nothing if not bothered.-I suck at summaries but basically George has always dreamed of having complete freedom and no one knows what Dream wants.(They do be pirates)
Kudos: 6





	We'd Be Alright (Into the Heart of the Sea)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story I am publishing on this website which is big scary. I am not the best writer so bear with me please, and I hope if you are deciding to read this that you will enjoy it and I wish you luck on this journey extending towards the sea. 
> 
> There is so much dialogue, forgive me!
> 
> (also know that my knowledge on pirates and the 18th century comes only from The Pirates of the Caribbean so I apologize if I am historically incorrect).  
> 
> 
> :)

Delicate blades of untrimmed grass cut slightly into his pale arms. The wind cold, smelling crisp, pure, clean as if the sky was just polished and the air brand new. He wears a loose shirt, buttoned almost all the way and bright white to match the moon his eyes are so fixated on.

It is silent. From afar, you would think the boy is sleeping if it weren't for his mumbled song, 

"safe and sound at home again, let the waters roar, Jack" 

He repeats this a few times in a gentle, almost polite, manner-- as if he has been trained to keep this quiet his entire life, never mumbling, only ever keeping above a slightly elevated whisper unless told otherwise. His voice so soft but clear as it cuts into the silence of the cold night. Maybe he has been trained to be this quiet. 

"long we've tossed on the rolling main,"

A somewhat new, unfamiliar nostalgia bleeds into his voice. He sounds far away, like his mind isn't in his body. An onlooker might think he is in the stars, traveling through time and space, watching the moon get further away as he dreams. 

"now we're safe ashore, Jack."

This boy could be no further from the stars than the bottom of the sea. A cold, unforgiving asylum of the lost, drowned, and forgotten. Maybe that is where he is. 

He remains unmoving as the wind blows a bit harder. The loose button up flits with the wind, just slightly but enough to get the cold under his skin and make him shiver. His eyes close.

"don't forget your old shipmate,"

The rest of the song is reduced to a delicate hum that fades away with the harsh wind. The boy sighs after his final note and sits up, rubbing his eyes and correcting his posture in the grass. It is nearing midnight but he remains unmoving, now staring at the dandelion growing at his feet. 

-

_The sun is blinding in the middle of the spotted sky, burning those who are uncovered and moving between the dock and ships. Masses of people move hastily as if they are ants in a colony aiming to please their queen. From merchants, to dukes, to nomads, the beach is alive with contrasting lives full of purpose and charge, cutting into the tranquility of the sea, creating an environment of stress and energy._

_The King of England stands nicely, looking expensive on the outskirts of the loading dock. He watches the workers scurry around him, the fear in their movements most likely from his mere presence. A figure comes up behind him._

_"George," the King states still watching the workers on the dock._

_A boy, a bit shorter and shyer than most his age, moves up next to the King. He looks lavish, not as much as the King, but nonetheless a prize fancied by many._

_"Father."_

_The King finally looks down at the boy next to him, "How have you been, my son?"_

_The boy looks up, "You requested my presence."_

_The King laughs a deep, throaty tenor that one would deem joyous if not for the timbre of condescension laced in his resonance; An I'm better than you quality that tickles the back of your neck and makes your skin crawl._

_"Yes, I have just developed the most worrying prospect and it seems that you are the only one who can ease my troubled mind."_

_George looks up at his father in expectance. The King continues, "Son, I won't be living forever and in the fullness of time you will be the one to wear my crown," he looks back up at the workers on the dock, "it is a strenuous obligation that requires a strong head and a vicious heart. My duties, though unmatched, would have left you to be King quite sooner if it wasn't for your mother."_

_A man abruptly drops a crate of goods on the wooden dock, contents spilling out, causing everyone in the vicinity to look for a second. George's eyes focus on a larger ship in the distance, coming close._

_"I am unsure of what you telling me, father."_

_The King laughs again, condescension with a tone somewhat indicative of aggravation._

_"Look at all of these ships. All of these people, George. I expect more coming in tomorrow: aristocrats of France, duchesses from New Holland, lords and ladies from Scotland, and perhaps..." The King looks back down to George, making unhesitant eye-contact, "Well, conceivably you would seek conversation with a few of the fine maidens coming in and out of our dock these upcoming weeks. I am optimistic about this opportunity and I pray that you find a worthy match. Offspring are our only option of living when we reach eternal rest. We live through them and our name carries on; It is the responsibility of a King, a tradition. The absence of a wife will not only discredit you as King, but it will put out a flame that has been alight for centuries. You must keep the flame lit, George."_

_George remains silent, eyes now cast downwards at his shoes. The King coughs and George speaks plainly, "I will arrive back here early tomorrow and converse with whomever I consider worthy of royal blood. She will be my wife."_

_The King sighs and smiles, patting his son on the back in an almost proud way. It jolts the boy forward a tad bit and forces him to look up. He watches his father walk away towards a merchant ship just arriving._

_The boy exits the docking area and slowly makes his way towards the beach. He loves the sea. It makes him feel free in a way that all of the riches in the world couldn't. The waves inspire him, moving without instruction wherever they please whether be to The Americas or Spain. The danger of sea exhilarates him; he seeks the unknown._

_George walks along the beach until he is away from most crowds, behind a couple of boulders littered with barnacle and moss. He sits at a split between grass and sand to watch the sea._

_He does not want to be King. He sees it as a miserable occupation and a selfish title. He does not want to be King. The ocean in front of him cries out to him, waves dying just to form a riptide before being pulled back in by force. George wishes he was in them._

_His eyes cast downwards towards a flower to his left: a dandelion. It moves a bit in the salty wind but has no choice but to stay put, being rooted into the ground. George correlates with the flower: powerless in his position, unable to escape no matter how harsh the circumstances may get. He is rooted in his royal name._

_A pair of black leather boots walk up and stop in front of the flower, forcing George to turn his attention away from the white plant and up towards a man with a Tricorne hat covering his eyes. It is silent for a moment. George doesn't get a chance to speak._

_"You know, in my younger days I would pick these flowers and blow on them, making a wish to possibly come true," the stranger smiles, tilting his hat upwards and making eye contact with the Prince. His eyes are green._

_George stares for a moment in confusion before retaliating, "that is ridiculous, it is just a plant."_

_The stranger crouches to meet George's level, "a handful of my desires did come true, mate. I got this hat," he smiles, tipping the Tricorne in a courteous manner, and George smiles back._

_"I highly doubt that blowing on a flower heightened any chances of luck. I am sure it was just a mere coincidence."_

_The ocean cries again and the stranger picks the flower from the ground, handing it to George._

_"No, I am certain. Go on, try it."_

_George hesitates but takes the plant from the strangers hand. He opens his mouth to speak but the man beats him to it, "you cannot tell me your desire or it won't come true."_

_The Prince looks bewildered, "Now, who came up with that rule?"_

_"Me. Now keep your wish in mind and blow, it is not difficult."_

_The Prince closes his eyes. He thinks of the only thing he wants most in this life-- freedom. He thinks of the sea and her waves, enticing him to join the unforgiving depths. He thinks of the places he could touch, the lives he could meet who have never possessed the slightest amount of riches. He thinks of what stories they would tell, of everything he could learn about the world. And suddenly, he thinks about his father and wishes to never have to be king._

_George opens his eyes and blows on the dandelion, the seeds being carried towards the ocean and dancing in the air. His eyes follow their waltz to the sea before meeting the green eyes before him once again. The stranger is smiling and George is nothing if not bothered._

_"Now what?"_

_"You wait."_

_"That is ridiculous," The Prince scoffs._

_The stranger laughs, a sound nothing like the Kings. It is a quick breath outwards, a short wheeze that propels anyone who hears it to smile. It is a good laugh. It sounds safe._

_"You are quite impatient."_

_George huffs in irritation, "Who even are you?"_

_"That, I cannot tell you," the stranger states matter of factly standing up. George follows suite._

_"What does that even mean?"_

_"You ask a lot of questions."_

_The Prince groans and nearly stomps his foot. The stranger is clearly amused by this boys temperament but stays silent._

_"At least tell my why you have that stupid hat."_

_The stranger takes the Tricorne off of his head, shifting it between each hand in front of him. He observes it carefully before shrugging and putting it back on, looking at the Prince confused. George expectantly looks towards the stranger who forces a laugh._

_"I am, um, I am a sailor."_

_He sounds uncomfortable, scared. George's excitement tunes out the discomfort in the strangers voice, "You mean to tell me that you spend your life on the sea?"_

_"Um, yes."_

_George smiles widely and laughs a little. Perhaps the dandelion worked. His wish could be a reality; Freedom could be near if he plays his cards right._

_"Where do you sail to?" His excitement cannot be contained as he lets his curiosity get the best of him._

_"Um, as far as I can, I guess."_

_"Far? Are you running from something?"_

_"Sometimes. Right now I am searching."_

_George tilts his head and the stranger smiles again, "I am confused."_

_A short wheeze, "You seem to be in a state of constant confusion."_

_"It is eternal suffering," George laughs and looks towards the shore, "You are living my dream. I want nothing more to spend my life in the waves, only worrying about which way the wind will blow," he looks towards the dock in time to see a new ship unloading expensive looking people, "I have never left England on my own and I am unsure if I ever will. I want to be able to run from something, I want that chance."_

_The nameless stranger watches the Prince intently as he stares at the beach in deep thought. He almost pities him until his eyes move down towards the boys shirt donning a royal crest. The pity turns into something stronger, something more refined. He understands the Princes struggle. Figurative chains have a much heavier weight than physical ones; when you are finally released you have to carry them around until the guilt and attachment fades away along with the person you once were. This boy dons a heavier weight, the highest form of responsibility, and he couldn't escape if he tried._

_"It is not the best life," the stranger starts, albeit hesitant, "The sea is a cruel, unforgiving wasteland. She will swallow you without warning and spit you out years later once people have forgotten your name. I have lost many great companions to her wrath and everyday pray that she won't take me next."_

_A dandelion seed flies slowly past both of them as the winds pick up. George sighs, "I would rather my life be taken by the sea than have it be wasted on an acquisitive title. At least then there would be life to take. You truly encompass my deepest dreams."_

_"Is that what you wished for? The sea?" The stranger smiles, attempting to lighten the mood._

_It seems to work as George looks back at the man with a matching grin, "I cannot tell you that. If I do, it will not come true."_

_They laugh for a short while until silence overtakes the two. They turn back at the dock and stare at the workers. The King is easy to spot, yelling at an older gentleman with a red face. It gets increasingly windier by the minute and a man drops a crate full of papers now belonging to the tide. The sun begins to set._

_Just as the temperature drops, the stranger turns to George and opens his mouth to speak, stopping as his eyes focus on something behind the Princes back. George almost turns around to see what has the man in front of him distracted until the stranger finally begins to talk._

_"Well, I must be on my way," he says hurriedly, stopping to look down into the Princes eyes, "Perhaps we will meet again and I can take you out to sea, your majesty. Until we meet again,"_

_The stranger bows, taking off his hat in the action as a principle of respect, shocking George. The man walks away leaving a stunned Prince behind._

_Although he was unaware of it at the time, George was pulled from his roots that day just as the dandelion that he wished on was; and they were both ripped by the hands of the stranger. ___


End file.
